


Lay With Me, Lycantrhope

by levviewrites909



Series: Howlin' For You [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, caleb deserves to be loved but he doesn't know it yet, werewolf!caleb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 11:16:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14187717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levviewrites909/pseuds/levviewrites909
Summary: The sound of someone creeping in through their window in the early morning, cursing lightly under their breath was alarming at first. Then, Fjord remembered that this was normally how Caleb made his entrances on these nights, on the nights he disappeared.Fjord offers Caleb a spot in his bed.





	Lay With Me, Lycantrhope

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second part to my series about Caleb being a werewolf. You don't have to read the first part to understand what's going on at the moment. I just really like writing about Caleb having people who care about him.  
> Sorry about any mistakes! I don't really have a beta reader so I do my best. I hope you all enjoy!

Fjord’s eyes blinked open to the sound of the old window creaking open. He was tired, had been for the past couple days. He hadn’t really been sleeping, however, and so the sound was loud and alarming.

Zadash was an exhausting city. It was loud and busy, and as exciting as it was, it was also nerve-wracking. Many of his party members had been attempting to keep a low profile, which was hard to do with the many scrutinizing looks they received. The crownsguard in Zadash were considerably worse than those in Trostonwalde  (which was impressive in all the wrong ways). The stress was piling up and Fjord was internalizing it, combining it with the concern he felt for his companions, which was one of the prime reasons for his inability to sleep.

His sleeplessness was only made worse by the fact that he’d been visited by his patron the previous night. He’d woken up choking on water, gasping for breath with the image of a glowing eyeball flashing in his mind. He was startled by the friendly hand on his back rubbing circles and offering a bucket to vomit into. Mollymauk was there, offering comfort in any way that he could. It was much appreciated, as was his lack of questions.

That might have been one of the reasons that Fjord had gone out of his way to make sure Molly had gotten to bed alright after a night of heavy drinking. Fjord hadn’t minded the interruption earlier in the night, it wasn’t as if he was sleeping very well anyway. He’d happily helped Molly into the other bed that Caleb normally occupied. He chuckled at his drunken ramblings and made sure Molly’s swords were wrapped up safely before tucking him in.

The sound of someone creeping in through their window in the early morning, cursing lightly under their breath was alarming at first. Then, Fjord remembered that this was normally how Caleb made his entrances on these nights, on the nights he disappeared.

Fjord sat up slowly and rubbed at his eyes, ignoring his exhaustion in favor of watching Caleb fall in through the window with a quiet thud.

The early morning light illuminated Caleb’s pale skin, fresh bruises blooming brightly over his back and ribs. There was a long gash on his calf, fresh blood slowly oozing down his ankle. His hair was a tangled mess, matted down with dirt and twigs. He was dressed only in an old ratty pair of underwear that hunglow on his hips.

As Caleb moved to stand, he looked up and met Fjord’s gaze. He looked momentarily startled. He wrapped his arms over his chest, as if to hide himself from Fjord’s eyes.

A silent tension hung between them for a few long moments, both of them unsure of who would make the first move and what they would dare to say. Fjord didn’t know how to approach this, didn’t know what would be the safest way to avoid any outburst from Caleb.

The group was justifiably concerned the first time Caleb did this, stumbling into their shared room only three months ago. He had collapsed on the floor, and Nott had gathered him up in her arms. She only let Jester look him over after a considerable amount of convincing. Even then, she hovered. The others were asked to leave, to give Jester space to work her magic.

When Jester returned to them a few hours later, looking worse for wear and considerably concerned, the party was naturally curious. She wasn’t able to get anything out of Nott, but Jester was sure that the goblin knew something more than what she led on.

Beauregard was immediately suspicious, almost unnecessarily so. Mollymauk was the exact opposite, adamant that Caleb deserved privacy and that maybe he was just dealing with something in a destructive way. It didn’t ease anybody’s worries, and when questioned the next day Caleb had reverted in on himself and stayed quiet and distant for the following two days. This was after he lashed out at all of them (it was strange to see anger from him that wasn’t fueled by the heat of battle).

The next time it happened, Beauregard pressed a little too hard. Caleb had nearly exploded at her incessant accusations, fire licking at his fingertips and reflecting in his eyes in an alarming manner. Molly had cooled both of them down, given Beauregard quite the scolding in the process.

It kept happening, and they all stopped asking. There were vague mentions of it occasionally, just to gage Caleb’s reaction. Any mention of his disappearances caused him to tense up and go quiet, and Fjord glared daggers at anyone who dared to bring it up.

Caleb seemed appreciative, even thanked him one night for changing the subject when conversations went a bit too deep for his liking. He explained vaguely that it was akin to Fjord’s situation, something that he just didn’t want to discuss. It only raised more questions, how could it not? Fjord had already been curious about the man, even before he started disappearing.

So, Fjord started hovering as casually as he possibly could. He would ask Caleb questions about magic, casual questions about his life before prison. It was all so very careful, melded into the conversation as to not raise suspicion. Someone mentioned their siblings, Fjord asked Caleb if he had any. Caleb mentioned learning magic before, Fjord asked if he had a teacher. In return, Fjord talked vaguely about his past.

Unlike Caleb, Fjord had not gone through traditional schooling. Unlike Caleb, his family was very large. He had many siblings and half siblings, so many cousins that he could barely remember their names. Caleb asked him questions about working at a port, about being in such a busy coastal city. He seemed to enjoy listening to Fjord speak, and Fjord was happy to oblige.

Fjord found his interest piqued in different ways, no longer to solve the puzzle that was Caleb’s disappearances but instead to get closer to him. Their relationship was something good, still developing and in its sweet beginnings. Fjord enjoyed his company, and he hoped the feeling was mutual.

They would sit silently together while Caleb read his books, shoulder-to-shoulder. Caleb would sometimes stop reading to point out an interesting passage, or to explain when Fjord asked questions.

They ate together sometimes, would get to know each other through casual conversation in a crowded tavern whilst the others were away. This was less of a frequent occurrence, considering they were with the rest of the party more often than not. Fjord treasured their time alone for that reason.

And so, Fjord did not know what to say to Caleb. He didn't want to spook him, didn't want to ruin what they had started. He decided to let Caleb take the reigns, to decide how this conversation would go and where it would end.

The man opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He took a deep breath then tried again.

“I’m sorry for waking you.”

His voice sounded rough and strained, like his vocal cords had been shredded into pieces. He cleared his throat, the sound was grating.

“It’s alright,” Fjord assured him with a nod. He was far happier to see that Caleb was alive. “I wasn’t sleepin’ very well, anyways.”

Caleb nodded and glanced over towards Molly’s sleeping form. The tiefling’s arm was hanging off the bed, the sheets contorted around his body in ways that didn’t seem possible.

“I’ve never heard him snore that loud.”

“He got drunk, got him to bed a few hours ago,” Fjord explained. He wondered if he should have removed the hanging pieces of jewelry from his horns, or if Molly slept in them. He couldn’t remember.

“That is kind of you,” Caleb stated. “I’m sure he will be appreciative.”

Fjord shook his head. “Doubt he’ll remember.”

Caleb nodded. He glanced around the room, bathed in the very bright light of the morning. He looked out of place there, his skin a stark contrast to the dark wooden walls of the inn. It wasn’t only that either. He looked awkward standing there, nearly naked and injured. He kept avoiding Fjord’s direct gaze.

“Well, uh- I suppose I will be taking the floor then,” Caleb mumbled quietly.

Fjord blinked. He glanced down at Caleb’s injured leg, at his whole body. Fjord had only seen him like this twice before himself. Each time it was shocking.

“That won’t be necessary,” Fjord shook his head. “You can take my bed for the night.”

“Oh- I couldn’t.”

“I insist,” Fjord said firmly. “You’re injured.”

“I will be fine.”

Fjord sighed. Caleb was stubborn, and a liar. Fjord could insist until he was blue in the face, and Caleb would continuously deny his kindness and concern.

“Well, why don’t I get Jester to look at that leg of yours then, and see if she can make it less-injured.”

“No, I don’t wish to wake her,” Caleb shook his head. “And I don’t wish to force you out of your bed.”

“How about, I fix up your leg and then we’ll take it from there?”

“I am perfectly capable-”

“You look like you’re about to keel over, with all due respect, Caleb.”

Caleb sighed, looked down at the floor. His long hair fell over his face, blocked the view of his features. He was stood just so, turned away from the window so that the left side of his body was cast in shadows.

“Fine,” Caleb bit out, finally. He sounded defeated, tired. Fjord was fine with that, if it would make him less stubborn and easier to take care of.

“Alright, come sit down then.”

Fjord lit the lantern on the bedside table and started digging around in his bags. He had various bits of medical supplies, basic but satisfactory. Jester had taught him how to use most of it, just in case there was an emergency and she was not able to get to someone in time. She was only one person, after all.

He listened to Caleb shuffling on the other side of the room, the quiet clanging of his pack. Fjord started laying different materials out on the bedside table, turned when he heard the mattress creak under new weight.

Caleb was now perched on his bed, shoulders slumped forward. He was  wearing an old ratty shirt, hanging from his frame and long enough to pool in his lap. The sleeves were too long for his arms and easily engulfed his hands. The sight was endearing, cute even. Fjord quickly looked back to what he was doing, sterilizing a needle and making sure he had the proper bandages.

“You gotta put your leg up on the bed,” Fjord said to him. He kept his voice low, mindful of Molly just a foot away in the other bed. The quiet snores were a pleasant way to fill the silence.

When Fjord turned, Caleb had done what he asked. He was leaning back against the headboard, hands folded in his lap. He walked across the room to retrieve the bucket of water left for them, and returned to Caleb’s side.

“I ain’t the best at this, just a warning,” Fjord mumbled as he dipped a cloth in the cold water. He glanced up at Caleb, who was watching him intently but did not make any moves to stop him.

Fjord crouched in front of the bed and slowly wiped the blood and dirt away from the wound. The dried flakes of mud had combined with the blood, creating a nasty paste that he had to scrub at a little harder to get off.

Caleb hissed at the feeling, and Fjord apologized quietly under his breath. Eventually it was clean enough to move onto properly disinfecting it. Jester had been very adamant about the importance of this step, and also very adamant about how unpleasant it was for whoever was on the receiving end of it.

Fjord dipped a different cloth in alcohol and then looked to Caleb.

“This part ain’t gonna feel nice.”

“I’ve felt worse,” Caleb shrugged. He tensed at the first touch of the cloth, hissed at the feeling.

“Still, ain’t gonna feel nice,” Fjord mumbled. He gently wiped around the gash at first, the thick scent of booze filling his nose. He was far more careful when cleaning the wound directly, managing to somehow be softer.

“Scheiße ,” Caleb grunted quietly under his breath. His leg twitched away and Fjord used his other hand to hold him still.

Fjord was tempted to ask how he got the wound, how whatever it was had cut him so deep. Fjord desperately wanted to kill whoever hurt him like that (and the realization that he wanted to do so was strange to acknowledge).

“You might still need Jester to look this over in the mornin’,” Fjord said. He set the rag to the side, now covered in blood. The wound was slowly leaking blood again, and Fjord wiped it away before grabbing the needle.

Jester told him that his stitches were decent, albeit a bit sloppy. Even then, he took it slow as he stitched Caleb’s skin back together. He spared a few glances up at his face, to make sure he didn’t look to be in too much pain.

He looked like he was thinking hard about something, eyes locked on the wall but not really  _ looking.  _ He remembered that Caleb was quite squeamish, and maybe that explained why he looked vaguely green.

“Why haven’t you asked yet?”

Fjord pulled the stitches taught and bit his lip in concentration. “Asked what?”

“Where I was.”

Fjord sighed. He continued his ministrations, slow and and careful.

“It ain’t my business,” Fjord replied simply. He left out the part about how he was terrified that prying too much would ruin their relationship.

“But you want to know, don’t you?”

Fjord hesitated. “‘Course I do. I’m worried.”

Fjord looked up at Caleb again. The man looked to be considering something, his gaze briefly drifted to Mollymauk, then back to Fjord.

“About what?”

“‘Bout you,” Fjord said. His brow furrowed. He finished the last of the stitches, carefully checking them over. “What else would I be worried about?”

Caleb didn’t reply, and when Fjord looked to check why he saw that Caleb’s eyes were teary. The man sniffled, rubbed his eyes with his sleeves.

Fjord pursed his lips, stood slowly. His knees made an alarming creaking sound as he did so, and his gait was a bit stilted as he moved to clean his medical equipment and put it away. He moved slowly, giving Caleb his privacy. Fjord heard only a few more sniffles, and when he was done cleaning he looked back at Caleb.

His eyes were a bit red, not terribly puffy, and he was no longer crying. He wasn’t looking directly at Fjord, not that Fjord was expecting as much.

Fjord sighed and gently placed his hand on Caleb’s right shoulder. His skin was cool to the touch, too cool for that of a human’s.

“You cold?”

Caleb nodded. He sniffled one last time.

Fjord walked over to close the window, hesitated before deciding the pull the curtains shut. He walked back to Caleb, hesitated, then exhaled deeply. He grabbed the edge of the bedsheets and started pulling them over Caleb's lap. 

Caleb blinked out of his haze then, suddenly aware of his surroundings.

“What’re you doing?”

“You’re cold.”

“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed, Fjord,” Caleb stated. He looked him in the eyes this time, his words said with a stubborn determination.

“Well, we’re in a bit of a pickle then,” Fjord said. “Cuz, I ain’t lettin’ you sleep on the floor, sweetheart.”

“Lay with me, then,” Caleb said. The words were blurted, unpracticed, unburdened by overthinking. It was so genuine that Fjord’s heart physically  _ lurched. _

Caleb blinked up at him, his bright blue eyes a dangerous sort of beautiful. They were lures, intense and stunning and enticing. Fjord would happily drown in them, and that was a big chunk of feelings that Fjord would have to analyze later.

“Alright,” Fjord said.

He pulled the sheets back before he could overthink it, and Caleb shifted over to make room for him. It was a tight fit, something he was hyper aware of as he settled. He was on the very edge of the bed and yet Caleb was still pressed right up against him. His skin still felt cold to the touch, but Fjord wasn’t bothered by it, if anything he was worried about it.

Caleb reached over to put out the lantern. It left the room dark, with exception to the single streak of outside light peeking between the curtains.

Fjord watched Caleb pull the blankets up over his shoulders, watched as he turned to face away from Fjord and the window. The shirt he was wearing was ripped all over the back, exposing his spine and bruises. Some looked faded, while others looked as if they happened only hours ago.

Fjord reached out to trace his fingers over Caleb’s spine without thinking. He had just desperately wanted to touch, wanted to feel his soft skin.  Caleb shivered under the ministrations. but he didn’t move away. Even so, Fjord stopped nearly immediately.

“Shit, sorry I wasn’t thinkin’,” he said, his voice a whisper.

Caleb shook his head. His voice was quiet, barely a mumble, his words unsure. “I don’t mind.”

Fjord bit his lip. “Do you want me to-”

“Can you hold me?”

Fjord’s mouth went dry. Caleb’s voice sounded so raw, so desperate and Fjord’s heart was breaking. Fjord thought he deserved far more than that, but the way he asked so unsurely...

Fjord nodded, frozen in place. He then realized Caleb could not  _ hear  _ him nod. He wasn’t sure how one could verbally respond to something like that, and so he didn’t.

Instead, he wrapped himself around Caleb, pressing close and holding him even closer. Caleb was tense for just a few moments, before practically melting into Fjord’s body. Fjord pulled him a little closer at that.

Fjord nuzzled into the crook of his neck, hummed lightly. Caleb’s breath hitched, and Fjord grinned. His chest felt warm, fluttering in such a pleasant way.

Caleb smelled of sweat and blood and something else, something akin to wet dog and Fjord decided that he wouldn’t ask. His hair was dirty, it tickled his nose and he realized that the pillowcase would probably be filthy tomorrow.  He couldn’t bring himself to care all that much about it, too pleased to be pressed against Caleb’s back to worry about anything of the sort.

Fjord stayed still for a long time, listening to Caleb and  _ feeling  _ him. There was something intimate about being pressed so close to another being. Fjord wanted to savor the feeling of holding Caleb close, of being able to press soft kisses to his neck. The very fact that Caleb trusted him to do this was an honor.

Soon enough, Caleb’s breathing evened out.  Under Fjord’s fingers, Caleb’s chest rose slowly and steadily. Fjord was fairly sure he’d never seen Caleb fall asleep so quickly (especially without a single bit of reading).

Fjord let himself close his eyes then, let his exhaustion wash back over him. He felt more at ease with Caleb in his arms. He couldn’t bring himself to worry about Zadash, or his patron. And with Caleb physically with him, he didn’t have to worry about whether they would find him dead in the morning.

Fjord fell asleep to the sound of Caleb’s soft breaths and Mollymauk’s snoring.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr @smolcactusgay (i want people to talk wiiiiith)


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